Imminent Threat

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Imminent Threat Page 6

by Felisha Antonette


  “Not all your life. Eventually, you’ll get too old to fight,” Cory says, nodding toward a table with a clear expectation for me to follow.

  “How have you been?” he asks as we sit at an empty table.

  “I’ve been. What’s so important we needed to be seized out of bed to be here?”

  “Work’s over for today, Ky. It’s our day off. We can get into that tomorrow. Besides, I do not have clearance to discuss that with you.”

  I peer at him through my lashes. “When did you start keeping things from me?”

  He smiles, grabbing my hands resting on the table. He takes them between his and stares for a long time. Cory is cute. He’s five inches taller than I am and has always had the look of a soldier with his dark brown hair cut short. His suit makes him look bigger than I remember, and his hairless face has lost the chubbiness it had the last time I saw him.

  Cory and I met at the Diner before we found out he was our neighbor. He spilled his piping hot tea on me when I was standing in line behind him, too busy arguing with his twin sister Hanley about being beaten in the rings by Luke earlier that day. His apologies poured out of him like a rushing river, and he bought me every item on the Diner’s menu that afternoon. From that day on, we were really good friends and told each other everything. I doubt clearance is going to keep him from telling me this too.

  Cory started taking a liking to me a year before he and his sister were picked up for Separation. I may have to use that to my advantage to pull the details from him.

  “I missed you, Ky,” he says smoothly. His haughty persona contradicts his nice, pretty-boy appearance, though he has always been tough.

  “I don’t believe you,” I say, softening my tone.

  “Well, I did.” He pulls his hands from mine and bows his head a bit. “But I did not miss your brother,” he mutters.

  “What about her brother?” Luke approaches and sits beside me.

  “Nothing, Luke, just telling Ky how much I missed you.” Cory winks at me. The wink gets me.

  “I highly doubt that.” Marc arrives and sits by my other side. I analyze Luke and Marc. They’re agreeing. How odd.

  I frown at Luke as he adds, “Me too.”

  “When did you two start agreeing with each other?” I ask him.

  Cory waves his hands left and right. “Hold up! So now I have two brothers standing between us?” He shakes his head with his eyes closed, covering his emerald irises. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m not standing between you and anything,” Luke states. “There’s nothing, and you know that, Cory. Why lead yourself on?” Luke’s being an overprotective jerk.

  “Luke,” I scold my brother, “we are only talking.” I turn to Marc. He looks away from me when our eyes meet. “Sean?” I know it’s Marc, but his actions with Luke are throwing me off.

  He shakes his head. “No, it’s me,” he confirms. My lips purse as I study him. “I’ll talk to you later.” He gets up, and I watch him walk away. His impassiveness sparks my interest; this is an odd fascination I don’t totally understand, a peculiar attraction I have to figure out.

  “Ky.” Cory taps my hand. “I see something has grabbed your attention. Or someone…” He rises and marches off. I find myself staring at him as well, wondering what I did to upset him.

  “See? See what you do,” Luke blurts, slapping his hand on the table

  “Luke, I don’t see what you mean.”

  “You just leave both of them alone. And you know Cory is not good for you.”

  I roll my eyes. “Cory’s a good guy, Luke.”

  “Come on, Ky, this has been a cat and mouse game with you two for years before he left. He is not that good of a guy. And whatever he wants from you is not what you’re here for. Don’t get caught up in him.”

  “I won’t. I know what I’m here for. But there’s nothing wrong with flirting. Like you were doing on the bus with Collins.”

  Luke glares at me. He hates it when I smash his pie in his face. “I was amusing myself. And she was flirting. I entertained her by giving her my attention.”

  “Okay Luke. Whatever. So―I’m amusing myself too.”

  “Don’t amuse yourself or them.”

  “Don’t be so overprotective.”

  “Kylie, enough,” he says, using a disapproving tone that annoys me. It’s a tone that brings back a faint memory of our father, but it’s not strong enough to draw out the feelings of caring. Still, I recall preferring a life with him and our Breeder mother over our aunt and uncle.

  I roll my eyes at Luke’s fatherly scold. “I think you’ve been taking care of us for too long, Luke. You’re confusing your role in my life.” He doesn’t avert his gaze, and it begins to burn, so I give in. “You know I wouldn’t take it past innocent conversations. It’s not like I could. We can’t even feel things like that.” He should chill out. “I know my purpose here.”

  In my ear, he hisses, “Never repeat that again. Especially not here.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Separation takes place in eleven weeks. Prior to this date, those of you here will have advanced training.” General Jord has been talking for over an hour, explaining our roles and what we are to do.

  Waking up at five in the morning was not as challenging as I had anticipated. We had thirty minutes to dress, a thirty-minute run, and thirty minutes to eat breakfast. Having accomplished that, we were sent to the auditorium, where we’ve been sitting for the past three hours. Luke’s assumption about having a new room is way off. It’s no better or worse, but our living arrangements are far more comfortable here than back home.

  Once the general finishes, we’ll meet the groups we’ll be commanding. By the looks of it though, he’s nowhere near finished.

  Cory has been on edge but confident, or as confident as one could be in front of the general with his army suit on and a standalone M26 MASS shotgun sitting on his lap. Witnessing him antsy like this makes me curious to know what’s really going on. Why all the secrets?

  “You will be prepared for any type of attack. From creatures you know exist like humans and creatures you don’t…” the general trails off without providing any insight. “Things you learn here, as before, will not leave here. We fight all over the world; we battle and defeat others for what is ours. But what is ours can only remain ours if others do not know about it.”

  He stands back, and a woman steps forward. “Good morning. I’m General Seits Archibald. I am glad to see expectant faces,” she opens in a clipped voice. “It was unfortunate to hear we lost two yesterday. I want to take this time to explain something. You each were born in twos. You each will die in twos, depending on the circumstances. This is not every man for himself. You live for your twin and them for you. If your twin dies, blame yourself and shoot yourself in the skull before one of us can.”

  There’s a heavy resemblance between the two of them when General Jord steps forward again. They both have slender faces with bald heads, light-brown skin, and deep-set purple eyes. The only feature separating the two is she doesn’t have eyebrows. “General Seits is right. And even beyond your twin, we are a team. We fight with each other, we live with each other, we eat with each other, and we will die for each other. Remember that when you see one of your comrades alive, sprawled out on the ground, in need of aid. You are not selfish and must remember it takes a team to preserve our world.”

  “Chief Warrant Officers,” a female voice loudly commands from the side of the stage.

  Our row stands and states, “Attended.”

  “The chiefs of our current and incoming privates stand before you. They have been sought out as leaders. They’re the best in proving themselves worthy of the position,” General Jord states.

  He nods once, and those in the room harmonically state, “We understand.” The voices echo through the room.

  General Seits stands next to Jord. “Lukahn and Marcain, introduce yourselves,” she orders.

  Luke speaks first. “I am Lu
kahn Alexander. Kylie is my twin.”

  I straighten, pulling my shoulders back when they look at me. They nod, acknowledging me, and I return it respectfully.

  “I am Marcain Thanatos. My twin is Seanabe.”

  “Interesting name, Marcain Thanatos. What does that make of your family?” General Seits asks.

  “We have no fear,” he responds simply. His voice is strong, the rasp consistent.

  They nod, and General Jord says loudly, “These two will stand at the top of the command chain. The leaders holding equal rank will report to them. They will report to Captain Cory and Captain Ace. And Cory and Ace will report to us. Respond!”

  “We understand.”

  Jord names each of us, and we salute him. “Chiefs, find a section in here where your unit can meet with you.”

  We nod and disperse.

  I pick a row of unoccupied seats where my group will be able to crowd around me.

  The first to walk up is a tall kid with a short haircut and broad shoulders. Muscles bulk beneath his fatigue suit as he crosses the floor. “Chief Warrant Officer, ma’am,” he greets, standing at attention, voice lighter than I expect.

  “At ease, Private. Informalities are fine. Hi and goodbyes work best for me. Hi, I’m Ky. I’d like you to address me as Ky or Kylie. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Joe.” He crosses his arms across his chest and drops his gaze to the floor. “Josephine Carpenter is my full name.”

  Oh. “If you don’t mind me asking, Joe. What’s your preferred pronoun?” I just want to make sure I’m addressing Joe appropriately.

  “He,” Joe says with a nod and soft smile.

  I throw my hand out for him to meet it. We shake. “Welcome to Team Kylie, Joe.”

  He smiles wide and nods. “Thanks.”

  A short boy with curly hair steps next to Joe. He’s as pale as the snow. “Hey, I’m Alex Kenny. I may be small but I’m fast.”

  “Hey,” I greet, with a smirk and slight hitch of my brow. “Welcome aboard, Alex.”

  Identical twin girls with smooth skin and black pigtails plop down in the seats in front of me without speaking or looking my direction. That’s just downright rude.

  The rest fall in, introducing themselves, and I give them the same intro I gave Joe. Anthony, Joe’s brother, is first. They only slightly resemble each other with narrow noses and matching scar-like birthmarks on their necks.

  Frederick and Franklin Hurdle, they’re incredibly tall with short dark hair that has waves like the ocean.

  Gabriel and Candace Regale, they are the most fraternal twins I’ve ever seen. Gabriel has black hair and warm olive skin, and Candace is shorter with red hair and light skin. Nerves or excitement has her red in the face, but her smile is pleasant, while Gabe’s is quite bland and wears a thin grin.

  Robert and Edward Fennel, they’re short and stocky.

  Alex’s sister, Megan, is the last to come up. Taller than her brother, with big doe eyes and a button nose, sounds like a child.

  I kick the two chairs in front of me that the two girls who didn’t speak are sitting in. They slowly look at each other and then turn to me in an even slower manner.

  “I see the two of you are going to give me problems,” I say.

  “No, you will not get any problems from us if you don’t cause them,” they say in unison.

  I smile, holding back the urge to slap them both. “I’m Kylie for those of you who don’t know or haven’t heard. These two,” I kick the chairs in front of me again, harder, making them push forward, “are the first on my shoot-in-the-skull list.” I rise. “I can be a kind person. I’m not friendly, but I can be nice. I will not hesitate to blow your head off if you slack off, do not follow orders, or,” I squat down with my arms resting on the back of the twins’ chairs. “act like these two.”

  “You seem nice enough to not blow our heads off,” Candace cuts in.

  “Good,” I respond with a smile. “Any comments or requests? Likes or dislikes?”

  The twins stand. “Besides you… No.”

  “You,” I point to the twin that didn’t speak. “Grab her hand.”

  She follows the order, though not without some hesitation. I yank my handgun from the holster behind me and fire two shots at the ignorant twin, hitting her in each leg. Through and throughs. She hollers in pain, dropping to the floor. Her sister goes with her, grabbing her hand and placing the other over her bullet holes. The area I shot now glows in an ambient light as her groans cease.

  I replace my gun and jump over the back of the chair, landing in the seat next to them. The twin I shot scowls at me, hate sewn deep in her black eyes.

  I grin. “Now you have a reason to dislike me.” I step down from the chair looking at the other twin. “Give your sister some pointers in silence,” I say, eyeing them, hoping my glare is as intimidating as I’m trying to let on.

  The smarter twin nods and helps her sister from the floor. I lean against the chair behind me, preparing to speak.

  Cory nudges me. I whip around to my left, meeting his gaze. “Didn’t take you long to shoot someone,” he quips. He stands directly next to me, leaving little space for air to pass through. The group notices his closeness.

  I step to the side. “Don’t sneak up on people,” I tell him then add, “I wanted to shoot her in the face. But I thought it would look bad on me to lose two before we started training.”

  “I doubt it.” He turns, surveying the twins. “The generals do not honor, nor do they like, those who do not respect authority or who treat their authority figures without respect,” he states. “Respond!”

  “We understand!” they drone, straightening.

  “We are moving to the field. Training will take place in the obstacle courses.” He marches off.

  “I’m sure everyone heard him. Now listen, and listen carefully. I’m all about enjoying yourself in training. I also don’t mind you being friends or talking amongst yourselves. But understand, when it’s time for business, there’s only business. No fooling around. You feel no pain during training. I will not tell you to shoot yourself, but I do not like failure. We should all be ready for this.”

  They nod.

  “Help your friends. If they fall back, you push them forward. As a team, we will lean on each other. We do not come in last to anyone. Not coming in first place is failure. I would appreciate a strong team that is willing to work together, accomplish goals, and stand out. Can you do that? Follow in response.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  I face the evil twins. “If you are not a part of this team. If you intend to hold us back. If you hesitate to help another. If you do not give this your all… I will be the only chief commanding over ten Creations. Respond!” I instruct without raising my voice.

  “We understand,” they state, ordered and respectfully. I turn on my heels, heading out.

  Chapter Nine

  We jog two miles to the base’s obstacle course. General Jord orders our units to line up in preparation to hit the course. The first unit to complete the course does not have to participate in a second round.

  Other chiefs take a short break to give their teams a pep talk, but I’ve already gone over the requirements with my group. They know what’s expected out of this race: greatness.

  The units line up. When a gun fires, they take off like bullets. Cory takes my right as Luke takes my left.

  “You are going to keep at it with my sister,” Luke says, arms folded behind his back, boots snapped together in an attention stance.

  Marc strides past us, looking at me and then away. Something about the way he moves makes my eyes stay on him whenever he’s around. Slow and serious. Strong stance. Confident. He’s not like Cory or Luke, with his hair flowing ruggedly around his head. It looks soft and untangled, like it’s meant to be touched and curl around my fingers. He’s untamed, or maybe, it’s the lazy way he looks back at me, with his hooded eyebrows and low-set eyelids and then drags his gaze away as though he�
��s forcing himself not to stare.

  Cory, who notices my perusal turns and comments, “Wow, Ky. He really grabs your attention, huh?”

  I pull my gaze away. “No. What’s up?”

  “It’s not important,” Luke answers.

  “You know, Ky,” Cory starts, “if you’re into him, I can take a hint.”

  Thinking about what Luke said, I say, “I’m not into anyone.”

  Cory grits his teeth, and the square of his jaw pops out. He pulls his scarf up so it sits just under his eyes before he runs off, hitting the course.

  I face Luke, frowning. Pity: the feeling of sorrow and compassion caused by the suffering and misfortune of others.

  “Don’t give me that look,” he says, watching the groups make it through the course. “You did the right thing.”

  “It doesn’t feel right. My stomach is turning uneasily, like when I forget to clean my Glock and it jams.” I shake my shoulders in an effort to remove the discomfort.

  “Told you, you need to get rid of that thing anyway.” He bumps my arm. “Hit this obstacle with me.”

  Absolutely. This will make me feel better. I smile, pulling my scarf up to my eyes.

  We run off toward the course, splashing through deep watery mud as we dive under barbed wire and crawl on our bellies. Up a six-foot rope to monkey bars, we cross twenty-four bars to another rope. We crawl through tunnels to a longer barbed wire obstacle. We run over wood log walks, and run through tires. We climb up an eight-foot wall and jump back down to the dirt. We’re dirty, but I feel better.

  Luke pulls down his scarf. “Check on your unit,” he says, breathless. I look for my team, seeing them lining up in preparation to run again.

  “Dang!” I run to them, still catching my breath. “Who was last?” I demand. It better not have been one of those twins.

  “It was me.” Anthony raises his hand, bending over on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

  “You will finish first,” I order. “All of you will finish first in this run.” To the twins I ask, “You two finished first?”

 

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